


Apples and Kitchen Counters

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: (more like fluffy smutishness), Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 16:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: Danny doesn’t have any idea what the sight of him sitting on the kitchen counter eating an apple does to Steve......Or does he?





	Apples and Kitchen Counters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NatalieRyan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatalieRyan/gifts).



> Alright. So.... This isn’t my usual. And, I’ll just be upfront and say that it’s not really all _that_ explicit. But it _is_ very much more explicit than what I typically write, so I’m going E rather than M. Just humor me. And, please be kind. I’m... exploring.
> 
> Also, don’t blame NatalieRyan... she was a reluctant encourager. Which is probably what won me over and made me want to try this. We’ve been having delightful conversations in the comments, mostly about apples and kitchen counters—hence the theme here. Anyhow—sweetie, this was meant to cheer you up, but you did that on your own, so now it’s just for fun.... I hope you enjoy it! (I sure enjoyed writing it......)
> 
> So, uh... happy weekend, everyone!  
> *blushes and hides*

He’s doing it again. Sitting on the kitchen counter. Eating an apple. And watching Steve make breakfast as though he were watching some kind of nature program.

“Why do you do that? Huh? I don’t come to your house and sit on your counter.”

Danny takes a bite of the apple, almost aggressively. Steve should _not_ find it so hot, he really shouldn’t.

But he does.

Juice from the apple dribbles down Danny’s chin and Steve has to forcibly hold himself back from walking over and licking it off.

Unfortunately that desire seems to have been betrayed by something in his expression, because Danny looks almost startled, and then takes another bite, this one slower and goddamn bordering on seductive. Seriously, who seduces someone by eating an apple?

Evidently Danny does, because he just keeps going, and is it Steve’s imagination or is he making tiny little noises now to go along with it?

Steve’s really regretting the fact that he didn’t get dressed before coming downstairs this morning, but in his defense, it is Saturday, and he’d had no indication he’d find Danny in his kitchen, nosing around for something to eat as though he didn’t have a house and in fact a kitchen of his own. The far too flimsy fabric of Steve’s pajama bottoms is going to do absolutely nothing to disguise the effect Danny’s apple eating skills are having on his anatomy. Just. No.

Fuck.

“Are you planning on eating some of this omelet too? Or are you just going to live on fruit now?” He tries to sound irritated and grumpy. He’s pretty sure it’s closer to fond and frustrated—and not the good kind of frustrated. Or, rather, it _is_ the good kind, only he doesn’t want Danny to know that—crap. Seriously. He’s so screwed.

“I might....” Is Danny’s only response, and well, shit, that could mean just about anything. Especially the way he said it....

So the problem now is that Steve can’t really move from his place at the stove with the finished omelet without Danny knowing exactly how Steve feels about that. Whatever _that_ is. Just. Steve’s body doesn’t seem to care, it just seems to find it all absolutely compelling and desirable as fuck.

It is entirely too early in the morning for this whole situation to even exist.

Steve’s turned the heat off, wishing he could turn other things off as well, and he’s trying to work out the strategically best option forward when suddenly he feels Danny pressing into his back, hands that are theoretically sticky with apple juice sliding around to move up Steve’s chest, and pulling, forcing him back, against Danny.... He gasps when he realizes he’s not the only one having a strategic issue.

“Are you really that easy, babe?” Danny’s whispering against his shoulder. “All I have to do is eat an apple? And sit on the counter?” And, of course, it now occurs to Danny that eating apples in Steve’s kitchen while sitting on the counter is something that he does with stunning regularity. “Fuck. I do that all the time. Is this what it always does to you?” And—subtle, Danny—he’s grabbing Steve’s dick through his dangerously thin sleep pants.

Steve groans but nods, trying and failing to swallow. Breathing would be nice, too, some part of his mind suggests. Sure, he would be delighted to breathe, if he could remember how that’s supposed to work....

Danny moves his way around to face Steve, only to push him back against the counter, a little harder than necessary—but that’s just par for the course today, Steve figures. Danny’s hand is still on him, and that just isn't going to go well, but if he takes it away Steve thinks he might punch him.

“That apple was very juicy,” Danny says, grinning when Steve gulps in response. “I think I got juice all over my hand, and all over my lips....” Which, of course, makes Steve lick _his_ lips. Danny reflexively wets his own in response, then stands on his tip toes and draws Steve down into a sloppy kiss, pulling a little too hard on his dick at the same time, leaving Steve panting when he draws his lips back far far too soon.

Danny looks flushed with—well, either desire or _power_ , Steve supposes, because there’s no way Danny isn’t enjoying having this level of control over Steve. He’s not an idiot, he knows he’s in serious trouble now that Danny’s finally figured out why Steve’s had such control issues with Danny for so many years. Thing is, Steve doesn’t really fucking mind anymore. Not if it gets him Danny’s hand on him like this, and _his lips_... he lunges for them, trying desperately to recapture them, but Danny’s a step ahead of him, and has moved back just enough that Steve can’t get there, unless he’s willing to force Danny’s hand off his now leaking and painfully hard dick.

Which, um, he’s not. Just so that’s clear.

“So you like it when I eat apples....” Danny’s musing, and his other hand has gone to Steve’s waist and is tugging at the drawstring, pulling back the elastic and slipping his hand inside to uncover what he’s after. “What else do you like watching me eat, babe?”

But evidently he’s not all that interested in Steve’s actual response, because he’s sliding to his knees, and Steve wants to object, because let’s face it, Danny’s knees are not the best, but just as he’s about to protest, he doesn’t, because of course Danny knows exactly what he’s doing, and it’s so comforting to know that Danny’s mouth is good for things other than harassing and tormenting Steve... although now _that_ thought’s occurred to him, he realizes that this is even _more_ of a torment than the usual verbal abuse he’s subjected to. Then Danny’s hand slips back to cup Steve’s balls, and all thought rushes from his head, just about five seconds before he’s collapsing against Danny, then grabbing behind him for the counter to keep from actually fucking falling over.

Danny looks entirely too pleased with himself, but Steve’s not about to let that look last for long, and he lifts Danny up—god only knows where he finds the strength—and tosses him up on the counter, diving in for that kiss he wanted before, his head swimming with desire when he tastes himself layered with apple and something else that’s just _Danny_. His hands struggle with the button on Danny’s shorts, and he’s about to just rip it off when Danny’s hands slap his away, and open his fly and... well, _fuck_. He’s not fucking wearing any fucking underwear.

Steve groans and pulls back enough to growl out something about Danny having planned this, didn’t he, and Danny responds by forcing Steve’s hand back against him and rolling his hips so he can get a better angle. As soon as that deliciously hot, wet skin is in Steve’s palm, he fights a surge of something that makes him want to _bite_ , and their kiss turns fierce just for a flash, before Danny’s spilling over Steve’s hand and onto the kitchen floor.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Steve’s lightheaded and dizzy again, from the shock maybe, or how quickly it’s over.

Danny’s licking into Steve’s mouth as he pants. “Okay. But let’s eat first.”

Steve laughs. “Is this seriously why you came over this morning?”

Warm hands slide up his arms, wrap around his neck, fingers stroking circles into his hair. “I didn’t really have a specific plan, and I didn’t think it would be this easy, but... yeah. Roughly.”

He knows his eyes are probably glazed over and his body is tingling, but he shakes his head in soft, amused pleasure. “Sorry I didn’t make it more of a challenge for you.”

White, apple-cleansed teeth nibble on red, swollen lips. “I didn’t really mind that.”

Steve thinks about saying something witty like _Obviously_. But he’d much rather kiss those bitten lips instead. “Food can wait,” he says after a lingering and more sedate kiss. “I think I’d like to try for the challenge round now,” and he lifts Danny off the counter, pressing his knees to his side and reaching back to get a good grip on his ass, and heads for the stairs.

As they pass the fruit bowl, Danny grabs another apple. “I’m gonna need some more fuel,” he whispers into Steve’s ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and sucking.

Miraculously they make it up the stairs—pausing half way for more kissing probably helps.

“Please don’t ever eat apples at work again,” Steve manages to grit out before tossing Danny on his bed and landing on top of him.

Something mischievous flashes in Danny’s eyes, like Steve’s just given him the best idea ever, but then Steve’s kissing him and hopes that they are about to blow each others’ minds enough that he’ll forget that insane idea.

Because Steve would be an absolute _mess_ if he ever did.


End file.
